Frozen Soul
by Desh1
Summary: The road to hell is paved with good intentions, The Winter Queen, Mab, knows this to be true. Too bad, Harry Potter never got the memo. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. A Harry Potter/Dresden Files X-over.
1. Chapter 1

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch…_

_And Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place._

-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

A strange numbness came over Harry as he watched the tattered black veil ripple and fall gently back into place. He scarcely heard the sounds of battle around him and barely felt the heat given off by spells passing by him inches away. He hadn't even noticed Lupin seizing him by the shoulders, shunting him away from the melee. What Harry did notice, or rather hear were Lupin's words.

"He's gone Harry. There's nothing we can do to save him-"

"No," Harry murmured, more to himself than Lupin, "NO!"

With a strength he didn't know he possessed, Harry wrenched himself out of Lupin's grasp and sprinted towards the veil. Everything else was unimportant. The shouts of his friends crying for him to halt. The mad cacophony of duels surrounding him. Dumbledore's arrival.

Dumbledore! That brought Harry out of his grief fuelled sprint, but it was already too late. As Harry's hands made contact with the ancient doorway he dimly noted that at least everything would be alright with Dumbledore there.

_______________________________

Muggles who study chemistry refer to the temperature zero Kelvin as Absolute Zero. The coldest temperature theorized but unreachable by any known means, natural or otherwise. Had Harry known this little tidbit he would have introduced those Muggles to this place.

Cold. There was no other word for it. Muscle-numbing, hypothermia-inducing, ball-shriveling cold. Bleak and hateful cold enveloped him. He felt his muscles tightening, his lip chapping and his hand shaking. He let out a shaky breath watching his breath coalesce into a foggy cloud. His hand now shaking furiously were colored a pale blue, he felt his wand slipping from his grasp.

His wand! Harry gathered his thoughts. What was the spell Hermione had used to mark the doors in the chamber of doors?

"_F-f-flagrate!_"

A great red-gold flame alighted the tip of his wand and he drew his wand in a cyclone around him. The spell left a fiery trail in the wake of his wand's path. Soon thick tendrils of flame surrounded Harry in an unmoving twister.

Harry could practically hear his body groaning with relief. With the small respite from the bone-chilling cold, Harry peered through the gaps in his fiery cocoon and assessed his surroundings.

What Harry would have initially assumed to be a icy wasteland based on the climate alone turned out to be a garden of sorts; a garden of ice.

A fountain stood in the center of the garden, a frozen statue so covered in ice that it was unrecognizable as such emerged from the heart of the fountain pool. Where water would normally be trickling down from the statue's top there was instead ice. Moving ice, acting as water but still managing to coat the structure in layers of thick ice, like a frozen sculpture. Roses, daffodils and daisies flanked the fountain and lay placed all throughout the garden, all made of ice.

Harry couldn't help but admire the beauty of the garden, having tended the Dursley's own plot for as long as he could remember. Ice of different shades blended together to form trees here and there, scattered throughout the plot. Perched upon one of the branches was a blue bird, there first living thing Harry had seen in the garden. He squinted through his glasses, which were fogging from cold. The blue bird was alive, yes, but it too was enveloped in a thin transparent film of ice. Another frozen sculpture.

"Walkin' in a winter wonderland…" Harry murmured, recalling one of the Christmas songs from a time when he was not allowed to partake in the holiday. "Gone away is the blue bird, here to stay is the new bird…"

Harry scanned the garden before him revealing yet another important detail, The garden wasn't on ground level. Ice spanned a hundred feet one way and almost double in the other direction, but it all came to an abrupt an end. A parapet then?

He shifted his gaze back onto the fountain, noting many more sculptures, one in particular drew his attention, one of three female figures. If their clothing were anything to go then they had to have been some kind of nobility. Intricate silks and flowing gowns characterized their dress. Their faces all showed looks of determination, resolve and…fear? They stood back to back, shoulders touching, together forming a triangle. Perhaps they had been going for an artistic form. _Or covering each other's backs to defend from an unseen foe? _

Abruptly, Harry came to the startling realization this place was not a garden. It was a prison.

That realization brought Harry from his admiration of the garden. He was here for Sirius. His godfather who has already spent most of his life in a prison of his own.

"SIRIUS!" Harry called out. "SIRIUS!"

He paused. Waiting, hoping for an answer. _No, he's gone. He's not here_…

"Har…ree"

Harry spun, searching for the speaker. He recognized that voice, Sirius.

His eyes were instantly drawn to a feature of the garden that he should not have possibly overlooked before. A massive tree, dead and decidedly out of place amongst the other frozen décor overlooked the wintry fountain. On its braches, a man was shackled, a grotesque parody of a crucifixion. Shackles of ice stretched out the mans arms perpendicular to his body, his flesh frozen and mouth fixed in a silent scream. Where the other sculptures, or rather prisoners, were completely frozen, he was not. His eyes roamed wildly gazing at everything and nothing all at once. He met Harry's gaze and his screams began with renewed vigor, silent to all but himself. Horrified, Harry drew his stare away from the man.

Sirius's prone form lay immobile at the base of the same tree. Ice had begun to cover his body, preparing to form another sculpture.

Harry started forward, so intent on reaching his Sirius that he had not noticed the figure standing next to his godfather.

"And who might you be?"

He looked up and found himself in the presence of a goddess. For there was no other word to describe such beauty. The three earlier figure who had been dressed as nobility were made to be peasants by figure before him. She was clad in a flowing gown of pale green, a stark contrast to the pale hues surrounding her. The dress hugged her body, leaving nothing to the imagination yet not revealing anything at all, calling attention to feminine curves that would have made any woman writhe with envy and any man mad with desire.

She was the epitome of perfection, and she was not human. Her skin was a pale, really pale. So much so that the ice and snow of the garden would have seemed to be a burst of colors by comparison. Glittering colors flickered at parts of her body; her throat, her wrists, her fingers. It was a perpetual dance of deep blues and greens, even the occasional violet iridescence.

Her hair, whiter than snow, framed her oval shaped face and flowed long past her shoulders. Even long past her hips, long and white like winter's first snowfall. And her lips, her plump kissable lips spoke of things that were not of this world.

But that was non of this gave away her apparent lack of humanity.

It was the eyes. They were like a cat's, vertically slitted, wide feline eyes. Changing color in tune with her glittering body. Harry caught sight of a familiar shade of green In her eyes as it gave way to a dark navy blue. The eyes, although beautiful, lacked the basic characteristic of mortality. Devoid of emotions, yet filled with a knowledge…and power.

Those eyes were staring back into Harry's own trademark green. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat, his lower extremities strained against the fabric of his jeans. His mind was in a haze. He noted that his Flagrate Flame Spell was fading.

"I asked mortal, who are thee? Who dares trespasses upon Arctis Tor?" Asked the woman. A slight impatience apparent in her tone.

With nerve he did not know he possessed Harry replied. "Isn't it polite to give your name first before asking for others?"

The figure let out a deep throaty laugh. Harry could practically fell his brain shutting down to let his body to the thinking.

The woman's laughter died down. Her mouth quirked at the corners, whether in an anger or amusement it was impossible to tell. "Very well. It's been a long time since I have had a mortal visit this place. I will indulge you, be glad my mood is a favorable one."

She paused, and took the opportunity to give Harry a once over. Perhaps judging his worth, or maybe sizing him up. "You may call me Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness. Monarch of the Winter Court"


	2. Chapter 2

A moment passed. Harry stared at woman, apparently called Mab, nonplussed. _Monarch? Queen? And just what in Merlin's beard was an Unseelie?_

_Where was Hermione when you needed her? _Harry thought wryly.

Mab, not amused be Harry's continuing silence, let out an impatient sigh. Her expression flickered with annoyance, lips pursing into a thin line. "I have answered thee human. Now tell me your name and your reason for being in my domain. Thrice I have asked, now you answer is due."

Harry straightened up, he did not know who this Mab was, but he would be damned if he let this woman intimidated him. He had defied Voldemort. This woman, queen or not, could hardly be a match for the Dark Lord. "Call me Harry and I'm here for that man." At this Harry pointed to the prone form of his godfather.

"This man?" Mab asked, her expression one of distaste. She nudged her foot against the ice covered Sirius. By now only Sirius's neck and face remained uncovered by the unforgiving ice. "Quite mangy looking, is he not?"

A surge of rage passed through Harry. "Don't insult him!"

"Oh, it seems I've touched a nerve," responded Mab, starring coolly. "Is he important to you?"

Harry did not feel the need to dignify that question with a response. Instead he started forward, keeping his wanted trailed on Mab all the while. The ice was still engulfing his godfather, now entombing his throat. He had to save Sirius, that was why he was there.

Mab remained silent and still, feline orbs following Harry's progression. Harry knelt down next to Sirius, twirling his wand around the two of them, calling up another Flagrate to protect against the cold.

Upon closer inspection Sirius was not immobile as it had seemed, he was shivering. Uncontrollable shivering shook his form, his body almost seemed to be undergoing spasms. His skin was now a dull blue shade, ice and snow were fleck in his hair and on his eyebrows.

"_Incendio_," Harry intoned clearly, drawing his intent and magic to one purpose.

Whereas Flagrate had been an almost fiery rope, the Incendiary charm came more like a miniature flame thrower. Orange-yellow flames licked the ice covering Sirius's chest, Harry felt the heat spell on his face.

_C'mon, _He silently urged.

But it was to no avail. He pulled back his wand, simultaneously halting the magic. There was not a single depression in the ice, in fact the places where the flames had touched seemed to be even more thickly coated in frozen water than before.

"That will not work, human." Mab said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "In this place only I can choose whether he lives or dies. Only I can halt the progression of the ice or speed it up if need be."

Perhaps to prove her point, the ice covering Sirius receded to his waist and in the blink of an eye surged back up to his chin.

Harry looked up, staring at Mab. "Free him."

"Your impudence is fast losing it's novelty, child. Who are you to make such demands of me?"

Impressive as the display with ice may have been, Harry was not cowed by the Unseelie Monarch. Here was a woman before him, wandless and defenseless. Harry was confident in his ability to defend himself and if necessary to force her into helping Sirius. "Free him."

Harry steeled his gaze and stared directly into Mab's slitted orbs. Mab's visage, unnatural in it's beauty twisted into something cruel and ugly. And Harry's world exploded with pain. He could not remember ever feeling so much pain; the basilisk bite, burns form the dragon, Voldemort's Crutiatus. None of it came close to the sheer agony he felt.

He felt like he was being choked, drowned, and burned all at once. He tried coughing only to find that even that had become impossible. At one point two heartbeats pounded in Harry's ears. Unbeknownst to Harry, he had slumped down onto Sirius's chest, his head coming to rest over his godfather's heart.

And yet through all this Harry's eyes were locked on Mab's ever-changing eyes. Amongst all the pain Harry could recall memories. His life flashed before him:

"_No, not Harry!" Lily pleaded…_

"_GRYFFINDOR!" roared the Sorting Hat…_

"_Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken." Wormtail cut Harry…_

"_Clear your mind, potter." Snape commanded, advancing menacingly… _

_Clear your mind…_

Legilimency! Harry came to the realization that Mab had broken into his mind. With an effort comparable to lifting a boulder off his body, Harry tore his gaze from Mab's.

The pain receded to the level of something akin to being beaten with a sledgehammer, but it was a relief nonetheless. Harry could move once more, or at least he would have if the same ice covering Sirius had not engulfed his own form. He and his godfather were not fused together with ice, Harry covered up to his chest and Sirius now fully entombed.

_He's gonna die…I'm gonna die. _Harry thought grimly.

"Harry Potter, Boy-who-lived." Mab murmured aloud. "And Sirius Black, convict. It seems I have visitors from one of the Far Realms."

Harry, too preoccupied with his imminent death only barely heard the Winter Queen. Tendrils of ice were snaking up his cheeks, licking his skin and bring with it a trail of cold agony.

"Child," started Mab, breaking Harry out of his reverie. "I have a proposition for you."

The ice continued onwards, coming up from behind, freezing his unkempt hair.

"It's quite simple," Mab continued. "I will free the both you and your godfather in exchange for a favor. A single favor."

If Harry still had control of his muscles he would have frowned. _A favor? _

"I will call you when I see fit and you must complete a task for me. Simple enough is it not?

One of Harry's eyes was suddenly obscured by ice.

"Either that or die here mortal. Do you accept?"

Ice began covering his mouth, choking him. Harry gasped for air and coughed out a single word. "Y-yes"

_--_

There was a sudden rushing sound and Harry felt his body pass through a curtain of some sort before impacting on a hard concrete floor with an audible thump. He heard a similar thumping sound to his right and looked over to see the unmoving form of Sirius. There was a slight rise of his chest followed by it's descent. The motioned continued and Sirius seemed to be stirring. _He's alive_.

"If you should ever have need of me, speak my name thrice." A voice rang into Harry ears, soft and feminine caressing his thoughts. "And do not forget the favor you owe me."

_Mab, _Harry realized. Hearing the message and understanding Mab had kept her part of their deal he took time to assess his situation. What he had earlier assumed to be a curtain, was actually the tattered black Veil. It was rippled softly, coming to rest. He and Sirius had landed on the edge of the large stone dais that the archway was centered on. Only a few inches from the edge.

_At least we didn't fall of that too. That would have been even more pain._

He recalled his earlier torture only to find he could not recall anything he had felt before. Not the lingering agony Mab had inflicted upon him nor the after effects of almost freezing to death.

Around the dais, sounds of duels rang out. For all intents and purposes it seemed as if all Harry had done was nothing pass through the Veil. Literally, no time seemed to have elapsed.

Lupin was staring straight at Harry, his hands still outstretched before him. An expression of disbelief etched on his face. His eyes shifted to where Sirius lay and he paled, not believing his eyes.

There was Dumbledore stepping down the raised stone steps, using invisible ropes and pulling Death Eaters out of their duels without so much as looking strained. He turned his invisible robe spell to Bellatrix Lestrange only to have it blocked by the tell-tale shimmer of the Shield charm. She turned and fled up the stars. She was escaping!

Satisfied that Sirius would be properly tended to and that Dumbledore could handle things, he tore after his godfather's would be killer. From there it was a blur. Harry remember passing a groaning Luna who was with Ginny. There was Ron who was giggling feebly and an unconscious Hermione both of whom he sped by. He came to the Rotating chamber only to see a blur of doors, but even that did not impede him. "STOP!"

The Room halted abruptly, a door to his right flew open and a long corridor with a clattering lift stood before him. He got there in time to see the magical elevator close behind Lestrange. In a stroke of brilliance, or perhaps common sense Harry bounded up a previously unseen staircase. After all if there was lift, then surely there were stairs.

He climbed. One flight became two which gave to three. Harry did not bother counting the flights but he soon found himself in the Atrium, right next to the Fountain of Magical Brethren. He ran forward, coming to a halt in front of the rift. It banged and clattered noisily as it lifted up the shaft. There was a small _ping _as the lift reached the floor of the Atrium. The door began sliding open, but Harry did not wait for it's occupant to gain her bearings. _"Stupefy"_

A red jet of light burst free from Harry's wand crossing the short distance between the himself and the elevator within second. The doors widened, and spell shot through the gap-

Only to splash harmlessly on the back of the lift.

"_Wittle Hawwy thought he was cwever,_" Bellatrix whispered in to Harry's ear. Her wand pressing against his temple. Her tone suddenly became, cruel and completely mad. "But the filthy halfblood didn't know wizards could Apparate."

A trap! Gears shifted in Harry's head, he could practically see it. Bellatrix Lestrange knowing that someone would pursue her, leads them on a wild goose making sure her pursuer caught a glimpse of her using the rift. The trailer, confident in their own brilliance, would think to cut her off. But Lestrange had thought ahead and used the clattering of the rift to mask the crack of Apparation. Appearing in the Atrium, it would have been simple for her to Disillusion herself and wait. Harry had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

"Now Potter, I am going to give you your last chance!" shouted Bellative, temporarily deafening Harry. "Give me the Prophecy and I won't torture you till your brain becomes pumpkin juice"

"It's gone…destroyed," Harry responded with more bravery than he felt, all the while turning to look over his shoulder at Lestrange. "Smashed in the Veil chamber."

Harry felt his scar burn and his eyes water inexplicably once he spoke those words.

"Liar!" Bellatrix hissed. "_Accio Prophecy! Accio Prophecy!"_

But nothing came. Harry could not help but laugh, the pain in his scar reached a fever pitch. "Voldemort won't be happy will he?"

Harry found himself knowing the answer, as his scar exploded with pain. Stars danced across his vision, but Harry remained alert. After what Mab had done Voldemort's anger was almost cathartic.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" shrieked Bellatrix, wand digging into his skull. _"Ava-"_

"_Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!" _

Harry felt Bellatrix's wand fly away from his skull and spun around in time to see thick, magically conjured ropes bind her arms to her torso. Harry did not have to look to up to see the caster. That voice was one he would recognize anywhere.

"Look's like I got here in time, eh Harry?"

A smile tugged at Harry's lips. "Sirius…"

His godfather strode towards him, weather-beaten but decidedly not dead. His skin was pale and frost still covered his hair.

"WHAT?!" Bellatrix cried out, her eyes bugging out their socket. "HOW DID-WHO-WHAT?" Her voice dropped considerably, becoming a hiss. "I _killed _you!"

"It seems that surviving supposedly deadly things runs in the family." Sirius flashed a grin in Harry's direction. And Harry felt his heart leap, _Family_. Sirius considered him family.

"You've failed Bella. All your friends have been captured, no one died and the Prophecy has been destroyed. No ones coming to save you."

Harry screwed his eyes shut in sudden pain, his head was being ripped open and he could acutely feel a fury that wasn't his.

"No one, Black? Surely I must count as someone"

Sirius and Harry both turned simultaneously. Their eyes came to rest upon a sight horrible to behold. Tall, thin and donned in robes of the darkest black, Voldemort stood before them. His snakelike visage, pale and gaunt, was twisted with a terrible fury. Red slit-pupiled eyes stared back at them. His wand, bone white, was trailed on their location.

"Thwarted again by Harry Potter," spat Voldemort. "Months of preparation, carefully laid plans, vigilant scouting. All for naught. Only because those whom I trust to be competent cannot out duel a few obtuse schoolchildren."

"Master!" Bellatrix cried. "We Tried- I tried. T-they had reinforcement! D-dumble-dore is here!"

"Excuses! It seems Azkaban had dimmed your usefulness to the cause," Voldemort hissed. _"Avada Kedavra!" _

But the spell was not aimed at Lestrange, as everyone seemed to think it would be. Instead Harry found himself in the path of the oncoming Killing Curse. His mind was blank, he would not be able to react in time. He saw Sirius's stunned visage, he too was caught unaware by Voldemort's abruptness.

A shadow fell across Harry as a man made of gold stepped down in front of the path of the Killing Curse. The wizard from the Statue of Magical Brethren had apparently come to life. The spell rocked harmlessly against the chest of the statue, rocketing off into wall of the Atrium.

Voldemort looked up unsurprised. "Tell me, Dumbledore. When did I ever step in a rosebush and get all these thorns in my side?"

Dumbledore stepped out of the golden gates of the lift, his long robes of deep silver trailed on the ground around him. He strode forward, placing himself in front of Harry, Sirius and the bound Bellatrix. Facing Voldemort who stood before the ministry guard's empty desk. "You know better than to have come here, Tom. The Aurors are on their way-"

"Sending men to their death now, Dumbledore? We both know the worth of Aurors."

"Arrogance was always a trait you never lacked, Tom. Sometimes, I wonder how so many teachers found you to be such a charismatic student."

Harry watched as Voldemort suddenly snarled, losing his composure. "Do not use that name!"

Dumbledore seemed to pay little attention to Voldemort. Instead he tilted his head in a small half turn looking at Sirius. "Sirius, you must get Harry to safety. Headquarters has been compromised, take Harry to the other safe spot. I will come and collect the both of you once I've finished here."

"And you call me arrogant," began Voldemort. "Bellatrix _now!_"

The fallen Death Eater, previously bounded by thick magical ropes, had taken the banter between the two greater wizards as an opportunity to wriggle free of her prison. Her wand, earlier disarmed, was now gripped firmly in her hand. The worst part was that she had been only meters from Harry and Sirius the whole time. At Voldemort's call, A jet of green light rocked from her wand. The unmistakable green of the Killing Curse.

Her closest target, Sirius, did not have enough time to even consider dodging. Time seemed to halt, taunting everyone's inability to react. The light struck him squarely in his chest. Harry saw the mirth, mischievousness, and _life_ fade from his godfather's eyes. Sirius body gave out below him, he crumpled to the floor- dead.

Dead.

_Dead _

Harry felt a rage that he knew no human should possess. Whereas in the Veil Chamber he had not been sure of Sirius's supposed death. He felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes. So clouded with grief and rage, Harry did not notice Dumbledore binding Bellatrix once more. This time with his seemingly invisible ropes. He did not notice Voldemort sending another Killing curse in his direction, again blocked by the golden wizard statue. Nor did he note Dumbledore rush forward to animate the golden statue once more.

He could only stare at the fallen Sirius, he looked to his right and saw the bound Bellatrix. Harry was not aware of raising his wand. He was not aware of shouting out the most terrible of unforgivable. He was not aware of the moment when Bellatrix's life fled from her.

Both Voldemort and Dumbledore looked over, surprised. Voldemort's eyes alight with glee. Dumbledore's with pity.

"Tom, must you cause so much pain?" started Dumbledore, his tone uncharacteristically cold. "This has gone on for far too long, now we duel."

And the two titans fought.

Harry rushed forward, coming to kneel at his godfather's form. The gold statue met his pace, protecting him from the duel that raged on beside him. To those asked him later, Harry would denying sobbing. However, He would admit to crying. A heart wrenching, gut stirring, embarrassing in any other situation, cry.

Moments passed. Harry could not even guess how long. _Hours? Minutes? Seconds?_

He looked up. Despite the situation, Harry could not help but be impressed. _Wow…_

Dumbledore wielded an elephantine globe of water, shimmering blue, alight with magic. Voldmort was visible only as a faceless, indistinct mass in the heart of the sphere. He seemed to be thrashing, struggling to throw off the suffocating liquid.

And then he vanished.

Harry made a move to meet Dumbledore, but the old wizard turned to him. "Stay where you are, Harry!"

A curious note was present in his voice, _fear_? For the first time all night, Harry felt fear himself. But the emotion was not given time to flex it's hold on the boy-who-lived. His scar exploded, white hot, his nerves on fire. Mab was torturing him again, the pain was so much.

In his agony, Harry felt his jaw moving of it's accord. _"Kill me now, Dumbledore…"_

Harry was in pain beyond death.

_Please, Dumbledore, _thought Harry. _Kill us…make the pain stop…nothing compares to this….at least then…_

…_at least then I'll be with Sirius. _

A terrible shriek rang out then. Filled with pain and agony that Harry could empathize with.

What followed, happened so fast. Voldemort appearing again, only to disapparate.

Fudge and Aurors strolling in to see it…

Dumbledore speaking to the Minister…

Being handed a portkey…

Waiting in the office…

The Prophecy…

--

Harry looked around the Headmaster's office, now decorated in the glittering silver of Dumbledore's destroyed possessions. The prophecy reverberating in his head. _Neither can live while the other survives…_

…_His equal_

_Bloody Hell_, Harry thought. _We're doomed._

"Harry," said Dumbledore softly, interrupting Harry's grim musings. "What you did-"

"She deserved it!" Harry interrupted. "She killed Sirius. I killed her."

Dumbledore sank into his chair and let out a deep sigh looking every bit as old as he was. "Your actions, well motivated though they were, were rash and unnecessarily cruel. However, we must speak of this later. What I was referring to was your passing through the Veil. It is imperative you tell me what happened there, leave nothing out."

And Harry did so. He recounted his arrival in the place Mab had called Arctic Tor. He told of the garden and his conclusion that it was a prison. He told Dumbledore of seeing Sirius and meeting Mab-

"Mab?" Asked Dumbledore. "Are you certain that is what she called herself?

Harry nodded.

His expression, Dumbledore's that is, grew pensive. "Continue."

Harry told how he had undergone terrible agony and how he had bartered with Mab.

Dumbledore stared at Harry, expression unreadable as he gazed on from behind his half-moon spectacles. "This, Harry, complicates things a great deal."

"I don't understand, sir. What is the Veil- Why is Mab so powerful- What was that-"

The headmaster's chair scratched the floor as he abruptly stood, traveling over to a tall bookcase on his right. Dumbledore's eyes scanned the shelf, coming to rest on a old weathered tome. He drew it from the shelf, flicked through it quickly, pausing here and there. Minutes passed. "Forgive me, Harry. I must reacquaint myself with my knowledge of Fae."

He paused, turning to face Harry. "Listen carefully, Harry. The Veil connects our world to another, it was an attempt by the Ministry, specifically the Department of Mysteries, to unravel the mysteries of death and they failed. Quite spectacularly if I might add. They did connect with the spirit realm so to speak. But not the one that they wanted, they found a magical realm, known as the Nevernever."

"So that's where…?"

"Yes, Harry. But, understand thought the magnitude of the Ministry's discovery They discovered a new realm of beings, new races, new magical creatures. These were the Seelie and Unseelie, the former belonging to the court of Summer and the latter being of Winter. Each court had it's unique set of beings but the rulers of both sects were similar, Fae. Devilishly tricky, cunning and deceptive are the nature of Fae. Not to mention they posses immense power."

"What did the Ministry do?" Asked Harry, curious. "And why don't many people know about all this?"

"Well, naturally, being British, the Ministry attempted to colonize the place." A twinkle briefly appeared in Dumbledore's eyes, before disappearing. However, they failed."

"Failed, sir?"

"I supposed slaughtered is the more accurate term," said Dumbledore grimacing, "Out of one hundred wizards part of the expedition, only two survived. The newly christened Death Chamber and all further dealing with the Nevernever were cut off. Every worker of the Department and those involved were henceforth known as Unspeakables. For what had occurred became classified information, a story unspoken."

"So why don't these all powerful being come over and slaughter us all, or tame us or whatever?"

"The Nevernever touches multiple realms, We have the vast fortune of being in a realm far from their reaches."

_Visitors from the Far Realm…_

Dumbledore continued, ignorant of Harry's musings. "Even if that were not the case. Fae do not act in the manner one would expect nor are they free to exert influence willy-nilly. They only have as much power as you give them. The two survivors of the expedition were hunted by a large manner of strange creatures in the years following the expedition. It was a terrible time, they had unwittingly given the Seelie and Unseelie a means of interfering in this world. Countless people died, wizard and muggles both. Even worse both were ignorant of the cause. It was not till one of the survivors died till the Fae were unable to commune with this world."

He paused. "The terrible agony Mab put you under was because of the influence you gave her. Trespassing in the heart of her domain and giving her your name, for names mean a great deal to Fae. This was enough to give her means to torture you. Now you are beholden to the Fae, you owe one of their Queens a favor."

Harry paled, realizing a little of what had happened. "What does that mean? Owing a favor can't possible be that bad."

"You misunderstand, Harry. The favor, terrible though it may be, is not the crux of the matter. Once more, the Fae have a means to interfere with this realm. Through you."

"Sir," began Harry, feeling panic. "How can you be so sure? How do you know all this?"

Dumbledore shelved the tome he was holding. "Two people survived that expedition, Harry. One was a wizard by the name of Fabian Moore, the one who met his end at the hands of the Fae. And the other-

He stopped to look at Harry over half-moon spectacles. "-was myself."


	3. Chapter 3

The Nevernever was an enormous realm. In fact it would be more accurate to call it limitless.

Old gods and Elder beings, cast away from a time from when the universe was in it's infancy, lurked in the far reaches(Although defining the far reaches of a limitless realm is fairly difficult to do). Trapped and bound by forces beyond human comprehension. Preceding the far reaches was the region of demonics and diabolicals, a place closer to hell than any other. Demons, whose hobbies involve manipulating humans in hopes of attaining their immortal soul, lurked in waiting to be called upon by some foolish sorcerer. However these areas were only a miniscule part of the vast Nevernever. The majority of the Nevernever, or at least the majority of what is known, is dominated by the Fae. By the Courts of Summer and Winter.

The Faerie courts were not christened Summer and Winter for no reason, the territories' terrains and weather were largely characterized by their names. Hot and warm for Summer, cold and chilly in Winter. Even the Fae themselves possessed temperaments analogous to their Courts, the former being warm and kinder, the latter cold and callous. And both deceptively manipulative, but all this is neither here nor there.

The place where the Courts met was a rather nondescript place, a simple field. Or rather it would be, if not for it's appearance. One half of the clearing was coated in a sizeable layer of snow, the kind that was cold and unblemished from lack of intrusion upon the area. It was a cold, cruel and unforgiving climate. The other half of the clearing could not have contrasted more with the wintry part. On the other side it was as if summer was in mid-season, the field was coated in a fresh layer of grass, flowers were in full bloom and signs of life asserted itself in forms of moss covered rocks and buzzing bees.

Suddenly and without preamble, a carriage rolled into the clearing from the Summer end. Someone had obviously been watching too much Cinderella when the carriage had been crafted, for it was an enormous orange pumpkin on wheels of vines. In front, pulling the stagecoach, were two Pegasi. Large wings spread out behind the beasts as they lumbered forward, discomfort apparent in their movements. The horse-like beings traveled to the edge of the grassy area in the clearing, coming to a stop before Winter's End.

The door of the carriage opened, and out stepped the Summer Queen. She stood at a respectable height, sun-bleached white hair pilled atop her head. Feline eyes, vertically slitted and stark green scanned the environment before her. She was an image that artisans had been trying and failing to capture for centuries. She had Mona Lisa's trademark smile, small and mysterious. Her curves where the kind that not even the greatest sculptor could hope to chisel. Michealangelo would have been hard pressed finding pastels to match her pale skin or even the fiery color of her dress. "Your late, Mab."

As if on cue, Mab appeared opposite the other woman, standing on the snowy part of the field. For all intents and purposes the two could have been sisters, twins even. The only distinction being Mab's pale blue dress and decidedly colder disposition. "Impatience is unfitting of you, Titania."

A smile touched the Summer Queen's, Titania's, lips. It was an alien expression, one not of amusement but there simply for show, to keep up appearances. "Not impatience, sister mine. Excitement. After all, it is not everyday the Winter Queen requests a meeting with her Summer counterpart."

"I have news involving the Far Realm," Mab said. "A-

"So, you finally slew the wizard who could change objects to iron?" questioned Titania. "The one who killed an eighth of your court? Good, you certainly took your time. I had begun to think your powers were rusting-"

"No, not that," spoke Mab, a shadow of a frown hanging over her features. "He managed to severe his connection with the Nevernever long ago. That Albus Dumbledore would have made a valuable pawn-"

"If not for that," interrupted the Summer Queen. "Why have called me here?"

Mab shook here head. "Patience, sister, patience. I have had another visitor from the Far Realm."

Titania crossed her arms, interesting things happened to her chest from the simple movement. "What of it? They have not offended me this time, I won't help you eradicate this one. That's is of course why you're here, is it not? This one must have escaped you too? Perhaps you really are slipping."

"_Enough!_"whispered Mab. "You offend me, Titania. I let him go in exchange for a favor."

"Oh?" Titania inquired coolly. "That's odd, I'm surprised you didn't let him become another ornament for that garden of yours."

"Do you not see?" questioned Mab. "We were too hasty with the last visitors from that place. We let our pride be offended and we destroyed a golden opportunity."

She paused. "I have already gotten a small hold over the boy, but to continue I need your help. Where Winter goes-"

"-Summer must follow," finished Titania. "You surprise me sister. I will not assist you with your silly endeavor."

Titania turned on her heels, red dress flapping around her.

"Patience is a virtue," said Mab simply.

"As is honesty," replied Titania, giving a slight half turn back towards her counterpart. "Think me not one of those foolish mortals who you manipulate for your own gain. I have been doing the same for as long as you have."

"Hear my request, Tita."

Titania rose a single slender eyebrow. "Tita? You are serious then?"

"I am."

Titania gave a slight inclination of her head, acquiescing. The Queens of the Faerie Courts conversed.

"…The plan is sound," Titania admitted. "It would solidify our power base in the new world…"

"…in which we could then continue our power games," Mab finished.

She gave a dazzling smile and stared her counterpart squarely in the eye. Feline eyes, vertically slitted, beautifully green met. "Do we have a deal?"

--

The smallest bedroom of Number Four Privet Drive was a curious place.

In one corner a tattered old twin mattress lay atop an even older frame, sheets disheveled in an unmade mess. Across from it stood an tall oak wardrobe, or at least that's what the room's sole occupant would have assumed. On the right side of the room, high on the walls, were shelves. Wood planks, with metal supports held all manner of things, or more aptly junk. Frayed novels, never used. Mangled action figures, disfigured from abuse. Old game stations, ancient and obsolete.

However, none of this was what made the room truly out of place in the neighborhood and even in the house itself. It was the wizard. Hunched forward at a desk over a large textbook, eyes screwed in concentration, right hand whipping intricately, was Harry Potter.

"_Delpusio!" _Harry muttered to himself, hands mimicking the motion for the Organ-Rattling Hex. _"Delpusio! Delpusio!"_

Satisfied with his understanding of the curse, Harry flicked past the page he was on. Stopping only when a useful spell caught his eye. "

The Wind Gale Charm," read Harry, "incantation _Ventas Servitas."_

Harry read the page, committing it to memory and repeated his earlier methodology; whispering the incantation himself and practicing the wand movements until he was satisfied. It was frustrating to do so, but with out being able to practice the spells he would have to make due with memorization. After all, it seemed to work fairly well for Hermione.

Harry stopped on the Flame Lance charm, Fuego, to take a small respite. Letting out a yawn, Harry took the moment to stretch out his body. Sighing with satisfaction as several joints cracked with soft pops. He let his arm fall to his side and swiveled his head to check the time.

_11:53 _

_11:53 PM! _Harry thought dryly. _Apparently time flies when you're training to save the world._

It seemed that twelve hours had elapsed since Harry had first sat down with his copy of Advanced Combat Theory by Reginald Daskins. A headache that he did not know he had suddenly asserted itself, his head pounded from all the newly assimilated knowledge. Harry grimaced, not from pain but from worry.

What was point of all this? He had studied magic rigorously since school had let. Harry knew could wipe the floor against any of his peers, but he could not possibly best Voldemort in a Duel, let alone kill the Dark Lord. How much would a few spells learned in a month help? Even Bellatrix Lestrange had outwitted Harry, a mad woman rusted by her time in Azkaban. Anything he did would not be enough. Harry briefly entertained the idea that he might conquer Voldemort with the luck that had seemed to be with him in every other dire situation he had every faced.

_Yeah, that's right. And I'll also come across a super wand and disarm Voldemort to death. _

Harry snorted. There was one way he could obtain the power and skills necessary to vanquish the Dark Lord.

"_If you should ever have need of me, speak my name thrice." _

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the temptation. Memories of the conversation in Dumbledore's office at the end of term replayed in his head:

"_The Fae," Dumbledore began, "will do anything to increase their hold on you, and by proxy the world. Mab may offer you money, women, fame- "_

"_I wouldn't be tempted by any of that," responded Harry hotly._

_Dumbledore peered on, silently. After a breath he spoke, warning in his voice. "Then you underestimate the Fae, Harry. Imagine if they offered your family, would you refuse? I can the answer in your eyes, Harry. Yes, you would, but you'd be tempted. What if Mab offered you the power to defeat Voldemort, thus ensuring the safety of people you care about? Could you refuse, Harry?"_

_He paused, his tone softening. "You are a man of incredible resilience, though infallible you are not. I must caution you against calling out for Mab, even in your most dire hour."_

A cold draft from Harry's open window shook him from his rumination. Harry stood up, crossed the room and closing the window. Hedwig, would not be back from her hunting until a few more hours anyway. A chill sped down Harry's back, undoubtedly an effect of the cold wind.

Harry rose from his desk, striding across the room towards his window. _Hedwig won't mind one night outside_

With that thought he slid his window closed with a soft thump. Another chill overcame Harry.

_Stupid draft._

Harry reclaimed his place at his desk, resuming his memorization of the Flame Lance charm.

"_Fuego!_" Harry intoned, his words punctuated with a sharp jab of his arm. "_Fuego! Fue-"_

Another chill shook Harry, a sudden and oppressive coldness that was more oppressive than a simple draft. With a came a small laugh, soft and cold. "Harry Potter, I do hope you remember out bargain."

Harry turned fast enough to hear an audible pop emanate from his neck.

Snowflakes were falling from above his bed, forming a small pile of snow. The snow coalesced, winding and twisting together, forming the shape of crossed legs. Next came the waist, slim, narrow and womanly, but the snow did not stop there. What followed was the makings of a woman's body, taut beasts and shapely curves that were literally out of this world. From there came the smooth and slender neck, accompanied by two pale delicate arms folded atop the figure's crossed legs. Her face came last, lips the color of frozen raspberries stood out starkly amongst her other features.

Catlike eyes, forest green and slitted like a snake's, stared back at Harry. They say eyes are windows to the soul, and if there was any truth to that phrase then the beauty before him was surely soulless. The eyes were devoid of anything that made up a human; emotion, recognition even baser instincts. The only thing present was intelligence and knowledge beyond mortal understanding behind those twin jade orbs, taunting Harry's own insignificant sentience.

"Mab," greeted Harry.

"Oh, so you do remember me?" replied Mab. "I wasn't sure that mortals as young as you had brains developed enough to recall memories."

Harry felt a surge of indignation, enticing him to act.

"_Remember, Harry," started Dumbledore. "Mab will attempt to rile you up in order to make you rash, susceptible to her influence and manipulation. You must do nothing, do not let your emotions control you. All you must do is complete her favor, and be done with her. Seeing as you have never bartered with the Fae before, there is a limit to what Mab may ask of you."_

Harry inhaled slowly, breathing deeply. "I don't owe you anything. Sirius died. You didn't keep your end of the bargain."

An unreadable expression crossed Mab's features. "I recant my earlier statement. It seems your brain has not fully developed."

And then Harry died.

Or at least the closest thing to dying. It was the exact pain that she had inflicted upon him in Arctis Tor, except _worse_. Harry's nerve's were being poked, prodded and pinched. Pain reverberated from every part of his body, aggravating his headache to the point of explosion.

His knees collapsed from under him and he hunched forward, hand supporting him. A soft voice whispered into Harry's ears from right over him.

"Were you not beholden to me I would not have any power over you in this place," whispered Mab slowly. "You owe me Harry Potter. And are useless to me in this state."

She punctuated her words with a soft kiss on Harry's cheek.

And Harry lived once more.

As fast as the pain had come it left him. Energy coursed his vein, reinvigorating him and all earlier tiredness fled. He looked up to find Mab seated above him, on the side of his bed.

"I could, of course, absolve your favor to me," said the Winter Queen, a smile on her lips. "I'm in need of a knight, you see. A representative amongst mortals, a champion of Winter."

"I refu-"

"Do not act in haste child. It would entail power, enough to defeat the man who killed your parents. Voldemort, was it? Don't look so surprised, I saw your memories when you trespassed in my garden"

"I-"

"-would be foolish to refuse. Everyone would be happy, you'd be rid of the favor you owe me. I would have a powerful representative who has defied death. And your world would be rid of a madman."

For a second Harry was tempted, but only a second. _The power he knows not_, Mab would certainly deliver on her promise, the power to defeat the Dark Lord. He could only imagine what kind of hold Mab would have over him if he accepted such a bargain. Even without that hanging over him, what would being a Winter Knight entail?

"You could also put a man out of his misery," Mab continued. "I know you saw him, on the tree in my garden."

The image of the tortured man, bound in a grotesque parody of the crucifixion came back to Harry. The man whose mouth who had been fixed in a perpetual, silent scream.

"He was my old Knight, Harry. He betrayed me and is being punished for it, as long as the mantle of Winter Knight is open he suffers. Would you condemn him to more suffering?"

_Bloody Hell!_

Harry was tempted again, this time out of selflessness.

_Harry, you kind of have a saving-people-thing. I'm not saying it's a bad thing-_

"I'm afraid I have to decline," responded Harry. "Just gimme your favor and let's get this over with."

A part of Harry wanted to rage against his morals and seize the power that would probably unleash a heap full of Faerie O's on the world. But he knew enough to deny, after all look at what happened to the last guy.

Mab sighed, a slow, deliberated and practiced motion. It was almost as if she had expected his answer. "Very well. Should you ever wish to reconsider you know how to contact me."

She smiled, and Harry knew that somehow this was what Mab wanted. That he had been had.

"I wish for you to travel through the Summer Court, and find me a Mock Orange."

"A Mock Orange?"

"It's a white flower, it grows on shrubs. Natural flowers are hard to come by in Winter, the climate doesn't allow for it. I'm rather fond of flowers and the Mock Orange can only be found in the Summer Court."

Harry almost laughed. A flower, maybe Dumbledore was off his rocker. The Faerie Queen's request was not nearly as daunting as the wizened Headmaster had made it out to be. "Alright, sure. I'll do it"

Mab smiled, a radiant one that lit up the entirety of Harry's small bedroom. "Thank you, Harry Potter."

It was then the world around Harry fell away. Reality gave way to utter darkness all around him, it swallowed him up. He was falling, falling, falling…

Harry never realized it was birthday.

--

Harry did not need any of the knowledge Dumbledore imparted upon him in order to recognize the place for what it was, the Nevernever. He stood at edge of what appeared to be a massive forest, great trees stood menacingly above, threatening Harry with their sheer size. The climate screamed Mid-Summer in the region, but the foliage lacked the characteristic green leaves and tan bark that one would expect. Instead the trees seemed to have decided to don summer colors, yellow sun-colored trees stood out, flanked by fiery reds and beautiful oranges. It was all rather beautiful.

What was not beautiful was the troll in front of the woods.

It was not the hulking mountian troll that Harry had encountered in his first year, nor was it the kind often depicted in novels. Ever seen one of those small Troll dolls? The ones with the oddly proportioned figures and wild hair?

Well, take that doll, boil it in a Cauldron of Ugly and add a liberal portion of Essence of Evil and it would be pretty close to what stood before Harry. The troll must have ran into a wall few times, because only then would it's face appear as squished as it did. Despite this a large nose, oddly shaped and bulbous, jutted out from it's face. Small eyes, black, beady and flanked by a pair of incredibly unkempt eyebrows stared back at Harry from under an even wilder mess of hair.

The beast was small too. It could not have reached five feet, even with its wiry hair. Arms, too big for it's body, swung menacingly at the trolls side. Small legs, much too small, struggled to support the weight of the troll. All together it was a fearsome creature. One that was preparing to dish up a respectable portion of _fearsome_ all over Harry.

It began running, speed and agility that should not have coexisted with it's mass apparent in it's stride, crossing the distance before Harry in a heartbeat.

"_Protego!" _said Harry.

The troll slammed into the shimmering translucent shield, bouncing back and skidding to halt. But Harry was not finished. _"Delpusio!"_

A pale violet jet of light forced it's way out of Harry's wand, heading towards his foe. The troll seemed to have recovered by this time, flipping over the spell. Yes, flipped.

"_That's just not fair," _thought Harry.

The Organ Rattling Hex traveled onward, finally coming in contact with a flaming red tree. The tree rattled violently, shaking several leaves free and breaking off branches along it's trunk. At least the spell seemed to be working properly.

The troll landed cleanly, looking up at Harry all the while. "Winturr' Curr!"

"Huh?" questioned Harry eloquently.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say because the troll shot forward again. It reached behind it,, drawing a previously unseen sword from it's back.

Emboldened by his earlier success with at spell he had never used before, Harry brandished his wand, jabbing it forward. _"Fuego!"_

Magical fire, white hot and fiery red, lanced forward scorching the earth. But the troll was prepared, it rolled to the side, hand coming down and letting loose an unknown projectile.

With his wand still spewing the magic flames, Harry was forced to dart awkwardly to the side. Several small black blurs whipped past his previous location, continuing onward into oblivion. He turned to the troll, only to find it letting loose another deadly volley.

"_Protego!"_

The shield appeared just in time for several objects to impact on it's surface. The projectiles bounced back harmlessly, dispersing in all directions, one coming to rest no further than a meter before Harry.

Star-shaped and small was a shuriken, ninja throwing star, lodged in the grass.

"_Merlin's Beard? Ninja Troll!"_ thought Harry. _"This really isn't fair."_

The troll bellowed, enraged by it's failure to seriously injure it's foe. Brandishing it's sword, or rather katana, the troll started forward once more.

Harry spun his wand in carefully practiced motion, calling his intent and magic to the forefront of his mind. _"Ventas Servitas!"_

The spell failed. Harry's eyes widened. The troll paused in surprise, apparently not expecting the failed attack. It's beady eyes narrowed and it lunged forward taking advantage of Harry's surprise.

"_Expelliarmus!" _

It was the only spell Harry had time to get off before the troll was upon him. Luckily too because the troll's katana rocked out of it's hand, spinning into the forest at it's back.

They went down in a tangle of limbs, muscular troll arms gaining advantage over skinny wizard arms. Long human legs wrestling small Faerie ones. When the pair rolled to a stop it was with both Harry's arms pinned above him by just one of the troll's. The troll used it's free arm to punch him across the face.

The troll possessed the kind of strength that only disciplined bodybuilders should be entitled too. And it hurt, bad.

"_That," _thought Harry wryly. _"is gonna leave a mark."_

And then Harry kicked out with his legs. Surprisingly, the trolled was knocked back, back flipping cleanly in the air, landing with its back to the Winter Court's edge. It was the polar( -____- see what did there?) opposite of the Summer's edge which was now to Harry's back. Cluttered together and packed tightly were trees dotted in pale blues, greens and whites which emerged from the snow covered ground.

The troll started forward again, enraged, and Harry's face ached. He could not take much more of this, he need a way to defeat the troll.

"_Should you ever need to defend yourself from the Fae," began Dumbledore gravely. "remember that their greatest bane is iron. They cannot be touched by it without feeling terrible agony." _

"_Iron, sir?"_

"_I do not know why it works, Harry. Only that it does. Do not do this unless the situation calls for it, it offends the Fae horribly. Wielding iron in the presence of Mab for example could mean your death."_

It was only too bad that Harry was not in the habit of carrying iron on him at all times. The troll continued slower but still angry, perhaps gauging Harry, determining the best way to kill the wizard. Harry took a wary step back, and gave a start when a branch cracked underfoot.

A branch?

"_Accio branch!"_

Maybe Harry should have phrased that better because all manner of branches came zipping towards him from the forest. Harry plucked a branch the size of him forearm out of the bundle and cancelled the spell.

Harry was no transfiguration master but he was hopeful his this would work. After all if the Matchstick to Needle was a first year spell, then how hard could Branch to Iron Weapon be?

The troll dashed forward faster, satisfied with it's new plan to overwhelm the mortal.

Harry panicked. Calling his magic and image forward he spoke the incantation. It failed.

The troll was getting closer.

He tried once more. And failed.

The troll was much too close.

He tried again, desperation fuelling his magic. The branch in Harry's arm shimmered and shifted become a crude albeit iron weapon. Professor McGonnagal would have been proud.

The troll bellowed, bounding forward and launching itself in the air towards Harry. Brandishing his crude iron sword, Harry threw it out in front of him and sent a well aimed Banisher at it. Troll and Iron met like toothpaste and orange juice, a combination of epic fail.

The sword pierced the troll's hide in mid air and together they dropped. The troll's body went limp and it's body continued the rest of it's way, landing on the ground next to Harry with a painful sounding thud. The troll remained still, dead.

A voice rang out from the Winter woods. "Very good, Harry. But my task was not for you to slay my foes. I want my flower."

Mab's voice faded away only to be replaced with a soft ringing laughter.

Harry turned on his heel, and started toward the sun-colored forest in search of the Mock-Orange flower. Too bad he did not know that that particular flower is known for it's symbolism, deceit.


End file.
